


Only Us

by SpaceAlex718



Category: Dear Evan Hansen
Genre: Angst, Broadway, Gen, Lots of Angst, M/M, Sorry Not Sorry, Suicide, Theater - Freeform, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-09 04:54:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11097312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceAlex718/pseuds/SpaceAlex718
Summary: Connor moved into the house when he was seven years old. The only thing he still remembers from the day he moved in is meeting the ghost who haunted the attic. Evan Hansen.





	1. Only Us

Only Us - part 1

Connor moved into the house when he was seven years old. The only thing he remembered from that day was meeting Evan Hansen. 

Connor decided that the best thing to do in a new house is explore. So he searched every room in the large house, memorized every detail. He counted four bedrooms, two bathrooms, and then he saved the best for last. The attic. 

Connor immediately knew that the attic was his favorite part of the house. He had always been an outcast, but he didn’t mind. He was used to it by now. To him, being left alone was much better than having to spend time with his parents or sister. It’s not like they care what he was doing or where he was. Or, at least, that’s how he felt. 

Connor stood at the top of the creaky wooden stairs and looked around the room. He immediately felt calm. He felt . . . happy. He smiled lightly and took a few steps forward until he was standing in the middle or the attic. Looking around, he tried to imagine himself growing up in that room. He saw himself in a few years, then as a teenager, living in the attic. His vision of his older self was much different. He wanted to be loved by his family, he wanted his parents to care about him. 

The ceiling came to a point and the walls were wooden planks, almost matching the hardwood floors. There was one window the opposite side of the room. It was fairly small. Square and framed with white, only slightly bigger than the size of a shoebox. He knew right then that he wanted this to be his bedroom.

Then Connor heard a muted voice right next to him say, “-but it’s not like you can even hear me anyway! No one can see me, no one can hear my voice. God, Evan, you’re so pathetic, trying to have a conversation with someone who doesn’t even know you exist.”

The voice sounded sad. And Connor didn’t know why, but he wanted to help whoever was speaking. He didn’t want him to be sad.

Connor turned around to see a boy in his late teens standing behind him. No, he wasn’t standing. He was floating. The boy’s figure was slightly faded to the point where Connor could see the edge of the staircase through the him. His head was down and he held his hands to his chest, fidgeting with his fingers.   
,  
“What do you mean?” Connor said and tilted his head to the side. “I can hear you just fine.” At this, the mystery boy looked to him, eyes wide. 

“Y-you can hear me?” The boy said, a hint of enthusiasm and confusion in his voice.

“Well, yeah. That’s usually what happens when someone talks to you.”

“Oh. I guess you’re right.”

“I’m Connor,” He said, sticking out his hand.

“I’m Evan,” he responded. He was hesitant to take the child’s hand in fear that it might go right through. That’s what happened with other people at least. But this kid standing in front of him wasn’t like anybody else. Because Connor had been the first person to see him for years. The only one to see him since he died. Evan tried to smooth out the wrinkles in his clothes, a blue and white striped shirt and khaki pants.

But even so, he grasped the child’s hand and shook it. This wasn’t normal. He could actually feel Connor’s hand on his. His hand didn’t pass through. 

“Hey, Evan?”

“Yes, Connor?” 

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course!”

“What are you?” Connor asks, curiosity in his tone.

Evan was taken aback by this. It’s not exactly what he expected to hear from a seven year old kid. But then again,he highly doubted that he looked like a normal person.

“I’m a ghost. I’ve been a - a ghost for a while now.” Evan looked down. Would Connor scream? Or run away from him? Hell, people ran away from him while he was alive, so why would anyone stick around now?

But Connor didn’t scream, he didn’t run away crying, yelling to his parents about how there’s a scary ghost upstairs. Instead, Connor leaned forward in excitement, eyes wide, and smiled. 

“No way! You’re a ghost? How long have you been dead? How did it happen?” Connor’s questions went on and on and he didn’t even give Evan a chance to respond. The ghost chuckled and patted his head. 

“That’s a story for another time. I’d rather not talk about that right now.” 

“Awwww. But Evan, I want to know! I won’t tell anyone.” Connor said, giving him the biggest smile he could manage. 

“. . . Sorry, Con. Not until you’re older.”

“Well that’s okay I guess.”

Just then, Connor’s mother called him downstairs for dinner. He let out a groan of frustration. 

“See you later, Evan!” Connor waved as he ran down the creaky wooden stairs. 

 

After that, they were inseparable. They became best friends and they felt as though nothing could tear them apart. A few years had passed and Connor was about to start Middle School. 

Connor looked in the mirror for what seemed like the millionth time that morning. His hair was starting to grow out a little, probably in need of a trim. But Connor insisted that he keeps it long. He wanted to grow it out.

Connor was wearing a black and white striped T-shirt and plain blue jeans. He had on his favorite red sneakers and his hair looked messy. But he somehow pulled it off. It suited him. 

“Hey, Connor, come on,” Evan started, resting a hand on Connor’s shoulder. “Don’t be so nervous, kiddo. I know it’s your first day of middle school, but trust me. You’ll be fine.”

Connor turned around, looking up at the floating boy. “But what if people make fun of me?”

“Nobody is going to make fun of you. I promise,” Evan said calmly, a sympathetic smile spread across his features. Connor smiled back, then ran downstairs to eat a quick breakfast before getting onto the bus.

Evan sighed and looked out of the attic window, seeing his friend get on the bus and leave the old house for the day. 

 

 

As soon as Evan heard the door close downstairs, he rushed down to meet Connor but stopped dead in his tracks once he saw his face. Connor had a small scratch on his cheek, a few bruises, and a black eye. And he was covered in dirt.

“Connor!” Evan rushed him, holding the boy’s face in his hands and inspecting for other marks. “What happened?” Connor looked upset. More than usual. He kept looking down, avoiding Evan’s gaze. 

“I told some kids at school about you. They said that I’m just sad because nobody loved me, so I’m seeing things. They’re saying that you aren’t real.” Connor sniffled and rubbed a tear from his cheek. “Evan, you promised that no one would beat me up. Why did you lie to me?” As Connor said this, he finally looked up and stared into Evan’s eyes.

As soon as he heard those words, Evan’s heart shattered. Even when he was dead, he was still causing problems. The reason he took his life was to stop this. But even now, he still managed to screw everything up. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up.”

 

It has been three years since then. The two had patched things up after about four days. Those were the longest four days of Evan’s afterlife. 

Connor was now in his first year of highschool. He had only started yesterday, but the second he got home on his first day, he told Evan all about how much he hated it. Connor claimed it was even worse than middle school. Evan agreed of course, considering that high school was a major factor in leading to his suicide. 

Connor always wore a grey sweatshirt to school, and his hair was longer than ever.It was almost to his shoulders now. And while the boy’s parents and sister constantly told him that he needed a haircut, Evan absolutely loved it. Somehow it suited his personality. His family didn’t spend enough time with him to know that. And Evan hated that. They were family, so why didn’t they care enough?

Evan wished that Connor had a better family. Or, at least, wished that they would care more about their son. But people don’t always get what they want. Evan of all people knew that. 

 

Connor was halfway through his junior year when he asked, “Hey, Evan? Can you tell me . . . how it happened?” Evan knew what he meant. He wanted to know how he died. Evan had never spoken a word of his death in fear that it would just bring back those feelings. But he knew that he had to tell Connor eventually. So why not now?

Evan sighed deeply and closed his eyes for a moment. He could do this. He was stronger than he was before. 

“Back in highschool, I was . . .going through some things. I was depressed. And no one noticed. No one cared enough. I didn’t have any friends. Well, there was Jared, but he’s a family friend. It doesn’t count as friendship when two people are forced to be nice to each other, you know? My mom was struggling, too. A lot. Since my dad left when I was little, it was only us two. She had to take up extra shifts, which meant that she wasn’t home all that much. So when I became really depressed, she didn’t even notice. My anxiety was so horrible that I had to start taking medications for it. And I just . . . couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t. So I went down to the park where I volunteered. I found the tallest tree there and climbed all the way to the top. The view was beautiful. And even though I knew why I was up there, the view was breathtaking. And then I closed my eyes. And let go of the branch. I remember what death felt like. And I remember how disorienting it was to wake up lying next to yourself. I stayed with myself for hours. But nobody found me. Not until a kid threw his frisbee a bit too far and landed about ten feet from me. I was there for six hours. And no one noticed, no one came to look for me.”

Evan took a deep breath and looked at Connor. The boy was . . .crying? Tears streamed down his face as he tried to wipe them away with the back of his hands. It wasn’t exactly effective. 

Suddenly, Connor looked up at Evan and lunged forward, embracing him into a tight hug. Evan hugged him back of course, and it felt right. Then it hit him - he feels more comfortable with Connor than he has felt with anyone when he was alive. Evan squeezed his arms tighter around the boy.

The two only wished that moment would last forever. 

 

It was almost the end of Connor’s senior year. He had changed so much since the school year started. And he didn’t exactly change for the better. Connor had made some new “friends”. And Evan hated them. 

Connor’s new friends were they popular guys. They were the ones to TP someone’s house on halloween, or crash parties and destroy the interior of other people’s houses while they drink. They were first-class assholes. 

The two used to spend so much time together. But now? Now Connor’s time was spent drinking and smoking pot with his friends on a daily basis. And by the time Connor got home every night, he would go to sleep immediately. Evan could feel them growing apart.

Evan knew what was going to happen. Connor was going to spend all the time he could with his friends and then Connor would move out. He was just going to leave Evan in the end. Just like everybody else had done. 

Then one night, Connor stumbled into the house. He was stoned, as always, and he had been drinking as well. Despite Evan’s dulled senses, he could still smell the scent of alcohol on Connor’s breath. It was like every night. Except this was different. He was acting different. And Evan could see why. 

Connor’s face was red, his eyes puffy. He had been crying. His grey sweatshirt covered his arms and torso, but he knew what was there. Bruises. He had a black eye and scratches on his forehead. He had been in a fight. Or rather, he had been beaten up. 

Connor walked over to the couch and sat down, sighing as he did. Evan walked over to him. Even though they hadn’t really spoken lately, he wanted to make sure Connor was okay. 

“Connor, are you okay?” He was half expecting some sarcastic reply. But Connor said nothing. He didn’t even react to the words. Connor stood up and started walking towards the ghost.

“Look, I’m sorry that we haven’t really been talking lately, but-” and that’s when Connor walked right through him. He had actually walked through Evan. He couldn’t do that before.  
‘  
“Connor?” Nothing.

“Connor, I’m sorry that I wasn’t there for you when you got hurt. I didn’t know where you were.” And still, the beaten boy said nothing. 

Connor wasn’t responding. Because he couldn’t hear him anymore. That’s why he had just walked right through Evan. 

They weren’t connected anymore. 

 

After he realized that, Evan had tried everything. He screamed, tried to hug him, slap him, anything. But nothing worked. 

Connor came home from school on his last day of senior year. Something about him was off. He was acting strangely. He was moody, withdrawn. He was barely functioning. Connor went up to his attic the second he finished eating dinner. 

As soon as he reached his attic room, he broke down. His knees hit the floor and he stayed there, hunched over as his hair covered his face. But Evan knew that he was crying. Conner was crying more than he had before, louder than before. Connor had always been a silent cryier. But not today.

Evan crouched down so he was across from Connor at the same level now. It had been so long since Connor had seen him. He took a moment to wonder what Connor thought happened to him.

“Evan . . . why did you leave?” 

Evan’s almost non existent breath caught in his throat once he heard the words. It took him a moment to realize that Connor was talking to himself.

“Why did you have to leave, just like everybody else? I loved you. You were my friend. Why - why did I have to push you away?” And with that, Connor let out a scream of agony. Evan knew that sound. It was the exact sound he made the day he gave up. 

No. 

Evan’s eyes widened as Connor stood up and took something out of the pocket of his backpack. Pills.

“NO!” Evan yelled as loud as he could. “Please Connor, please don’t do this.” Tears fell from the ghost’s eyes.

Connor still couldn’t hear him. He thought Evan had left him. That he was forced to leave. He grabbed a handful of pills. Evan’s pleas to stop did nothing. No matter how much he begged him not to do it, he didn’t drop the pills. 

He raised each pill to his lips and swallowed them one at a time until the bottle was empty. Then he went to lay down, turning to walk towards the comfort of his mattress. He didn’t even make it to his bed before he collapsed on the wooden floor, his hair splayed out around him, covering his face. 

Evan let out a scream. He dropped to his knees beside his friend, the one he loved. Not everyone comes back as a ghost. Which means that he was going to be alone. Forever. 

“Connor. Connor! Wake up! Please!” Evan’s cries echoed throughout the room, although no one would hear but himself. He put his head to Connor’s chest as he heard his heart’s last beat. Then, silence. 

Evan’s lip quivered and he reached down to brush the hair out of Connor’s face and he looked at his fallen friend. He lied down next to him and stared at his face, taking in his features before closing his eyes. 

Then, Evan felt a warm presence in the room. A gentle had touched his shoulder and Evan’s eyes shot open as he he sat up. Looking up, he saw Connor, his signature grey hoodie and shoulder length hair the same as ever. Connor looked different. But that wasn’t just because of his slightly transparent form or the fact that he was now floating. Evan knew that Connor no longer felt trapped, no longer felt like an outcast.The boy was happy now. Connor smiled, something he hasn’t done in a long time. 

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily, Evan Hansen.”


	2. Requiem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zoe mourns her brother

Zoe had only come upstairs to tell Connor about a trip they were going to go on the next day. Her parent’s had sent her up to is attic to make sure he packed enough. She didn’t expect to see Connor like this. She didn’t expect to look down and see . . . this.

He was lying on the cold floor, hair spread out, his grey sweatshirt ridden up to expose a few inches of his stomach. She laughed and walked to him.

“Jeez, Connor, I know you’re tired,” Zoe started with a smile on her face. “But you could have at least walked another three steps to your bed.” Connor didn’t respond.

“Come on, Connor. You have to wake up now and pack.” She crouched  
down and tried to shake his shoulder. But he didn’t wake up. The smile slipped from  
her face as she really looked at him. He was pale. More than usual. She shook  
him a few more times, yet he still didn’t wake up. 

“Connor . . . ?” She gripped his shoulders and shook him harder. “Connor!”

Her breath caught in her throat as the panic started to settle in. She put her head to her brother’s chest, searching for a heartbeat, anything to let her know that he was still alive. But she didn’t hear anything. It was silent.

Zoe felt her eyes fill with tears and her lip quivered. She yelled his name more, hoping that somehow he would awaken. She slapped him, shook him, did everything she could. But nothing happened.

She stopped her attempts and broke down completely. Her hands still gripping his sweatshirt, she lowered her head to his chest and cried into it, sobbing uncontrollably.

He’s dead. Her brother is dead. She lifted her head up and looked around for a note, a reason why he did this. She first saw the empty pill bottle he had taken from their mother. Then she saw the wrinkles in the pocket of his sweatshirt. She reached her hand in and pulled out a piece of paper that was folded in half. She took a deep breath and unfolded it, greeted with Connor’s handwriting. There were only two words written.

‘I’m sorry’

Zoe felt her heart drop when she heard her parents walk up the stairs. She didn’t even look at them when she heard her mother drop her tea. They both ran over to their son and did the same thing Zoe had done. They tried to wake him up.

 

A few days had passed and the Murphy’s had just pulled up to the funeral home. The whole ride there was silent and they stayed in the car for a moment as they tried to prepare themselves.

Once inside, they went straight to the viewing room. There were screens near the entrance playing a slideshow of pictures taken of Connor. There were tables set up with meaningful things that had belonged to him, and boards with pictures of him and his friends and family pinned up.

They walked up to Connor one at a time. Their father went up to see him first, taking slow steps towards the open casket. As he got closer to his son, he could feel tears well up in his eyes.  
While he wasn’t much of a crier, this was a deal breaker. He came to a stop once he stood next to his son. He looked down at Connor, trying to hold back the tears. Connor looked good, considering the circumstances.

His hair was slicked back, which had never been done until this moment. He was dressed in a black suit and his hands were positioned on his torso. He stood out in the casket with the inside lined with white. There were flowers surrounding his head, making Connor look somewhat peaceful.

Connor’s father felt tears fall from his eyes and he wipe them away as quickly as he could, not daring to let them fall from his cheeks. He closed his eyes for a moment and took a shaky breath.

Then he placed a warm hand on Connor’s cold one and held back more tears. Then he walked away, moving towards his family.

Then, Connor’s mother went up. She had already been crying, her face flushed, eyes red. She walked up to the casket, sniffling all the way there, drying her tears constantly to keep them from falling. 

Once she stood next to her son, she broke down. With one hand gripping the side of the casket, she reached out and held Connor’s hand. The second she looked at his face, her silent crying turned into uncontrollable sobbing. She cried louder than ever before, not caring at all about the other people there. 

“Connor,” she managed to choke out through her tears. “I love you so much.” She didn’t want to leave his side. Not now, not ever. 

Se then collapsed to her knees and her loud sobbing echoed throughout the room. Connor’ father walked up to her and put an arm around her shoulder, guiding her back to their seats. Once there, he hugged her tightly as she cried into his shoulder, letting his own tears fall. 

Zoe watched the entire scene. She knew that it was her turn to go up, but she didn’t want to. She had already seen him at home, so why did it matter that she said goodbye now? She was in shock. That’s why she cried. Or at least, that’s what she told herself. 

Connor was a horrible brother. The only things she could think of in that moment were the awful things he’d done. Like when he would come home late at night after drinking at a party, banging on her door and screaming that he was going to kill her. Connor never acted on it, he would never even lay a hand on her. And Zoe knew that he only did that to push her away. 

Zoe’s parents acted like Connor was a saint, that he could do no wrong. They were so scared that any little thing could set him off, push him off the edge. They didn’t want to be the reason that Connor took his life. And Zoe felt relieved somehow. Because they were no longer wondering when he would snap. She felt terrible about it, but it’s the truth. She didn’t want to go up, but she had to, even if it was just so she didn’t look bad. She didn’t want to see her brother, the person who made her life living Hell. 

As Zoe approached the casket, she felt tears in her eyes. She didn’t know why, though. Yes, her brother was dead, but Connor was a horrible person.

Right?

She then stood next to her fallen brother, tears streaming down her face and falling to the ground. The didn’t even bother to wipe the tears away. 

She looked down at the person who had made her life Hell. 

“I-” Zoe tried to speak but was shocked to hear just how broken she sounded. 

“Connor I hated you. I still do.” As Zoe said this, she doubted her own words. 

“You were a horrible person, and an even worse brother.” A son escaped her lips. But still she continued. 

“You-” Zoe's voice broke yet again, tears streaming down her face as she choked out another sob, taking in loud breath. 

“Connor,” Zoe broke. Her sobs became even louder than her mother’s had been. She cried out his name again. 

“Connor. Why did you - why did you have to do this?” Zoe screamed. 

She didn't truly hate him. She knew that now. She didn't want to pretend to hate him, she didn't want to have bad memories of him. All she wanted was her brother back. 

 

Connor floated an inch off the ground, keeping his place in the very back of the viewing area, watching his sister break down because of him. His eyes were wide as he starEd ahead, tears falling from his face and disappearing the second they hit the ground. 

Evan was still at home. He understood that daubing goodbye to his family is something Connor should do alone. The Murphy’s were going to be moving in a week, as they didn't want to come home every night and be saddened by the emptiness surrounding them. 

He was planning on walking up to each person individually and saying his goodbyes, even though none of them would hear. But he at the last second, he decided against it. What if someone saw him? Then his family would spend their lives searching for him. And he didn't want that. 

So he walked away. 

 

Zoe had finally calmed down enough to stand and turned around. She started walking to her seat but she stopped in her tracks when she saw a familiar figure walk out of the room. His long hair flowed behind his faded form. 

Zoe gasped and ran after the floating figure. No. it couldn't be. That's impossible, she thought to herself. But when she stepped into the hallway, sure enough, leaning against the wall across from her was Connor. 

He looked her in her wide eyes as they filled with tears of joy. Her brother was still here. 

She then ran back into the room as faster than she thought possible and was soon back in the hallway with her parents. 

But Connor was gone.


End file.
